


you're worth more than just the count against your name

by icarusinflight



Series: GWB Drabble Prompts [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: But I had fun writing it, M/M, Secret Relationship, Silly Boys, except this is so not a drabble, for the GWB drabble fest, it's all good in the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 09:09:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11917695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarusinflight/pseuds/icarusinflight
Summary: Harry’s not sure how it started. Although he’s sure it’s Draco’s fault.





	you're worth more than just the count against your name

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Drarry squad drabble prompt:   
> The Hogwarts students wake up to a large banner hanging in the Great Hall that the teachers don't seem to be able to remove. They soon notice that tally marks are showing up on it at an irregular but frequent pace. The entire school is at a buzz trying to figure out what the tallies mean, when the Slytherins soon notice that it has to do with a certain blond boy in their house.
> 
> I... got a little carried away and this is so far over the limit it isn't funny. I'll try better next time.

Sometimes magic was summoned. Sometimes magic was organic, casting itself from the wishes of many, or the strong enough wishes of one.

Sometimes magic was unexplainable. 

Although Draco disagreed with that on principle.

“It’s not unexplainable Potter, we just don’t have an explanation for it.”

“Same thing.”

“It most certainly is not. We just do not have the explanation now.”

Harry’s not sure how it started. Although he’s sure it’s Draco’s fault.

The  _ thing _ between them had started with sleepless nights spent in the common room. When Harry had first come down to find Draco huddled up on the couch by the fire, feet pulled up underneath him and a blanket wrapped tightly around him, he had sighed in exasperation.

This had, of course, gained Draco’s attention.

“Fuck Potter. What are you doing here?”

“Charming as always Malfoy. Couldn’t sleep. What are you doing here?”

Malfoy, snooty as always scoffed, before saying, “I swear Hogwarts has attempted to procure the least comfortable beds in the northern hemisphere. The beds are just impossible to sleep in.”

Harry kind of doubted that, but he didn’t feel like starting a fight with Malfoy over it.

“Yeah, okay. Look, I’ll just sit here on my side, you stay over there. We won’t interact, and this will be as painless as possible.”

Malfoy ignored him, which was really the best possible reaction.

… 

The thing was though, that it became a thing with them. When Harry couldn’t sleep, he made his way down to the common room. Harry would say he couldn’t sleep, and Malfoy would bemoan the terrible beds.

It continued until one night when Harry came down earlier than usual, and walked in to find Malfoy crying. 

He thought about leaving. They'd had a tentative truce in place, but he wasn't sure Malfoy would want him to see him crying. His inaction however made the decision for him, when Malfoy looked up and saw him standing by the entryway.

They both froze, like deers caught in the spotlight. And then Malfoy let out a shaky breath, shrugged, and looked away from Harry, breaking the spell.

Released, Harry looked around, still unsure of whether he should come in.

“Come on then Potter. No sense in standing around now.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He said shakily, “Umm, are you okay Malfoy?”

“Not particularly Potter.” He sighed, looking at the ceiling, and blinking.

Harry sat down on his couch. “I umm, sometimes I’m not okay too. But that’s okay you know.”

A look flashed across Malfoy’s face, and for a second he thought Malfoy was going to snark at him. But then he sighed again.

“Despite your absurdness Potter. I do know.”

Silence.

“Is it true you were a horcrux?“

“How'd you hear that?“

“Bellatrix. She gloated about it. I don't think many other death eaters knew though. But… she told mother.“

“Yeah, I was.”

“That. That must have been horrific. I'm truly sorry Potter.“

It's the first time he's heard Malfoy say sorry. 

“Yeah well. Still doesn't compare to my childhood in a cupboard. Least it's done now.“ He doesn't mention the nightmares. The dreams where it's not done, where he wakes up with Voldemort taking over his body, using his body, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it, to stop Voldemort. 

“You had him live with you though. That must have been rough.“

Malfoy huffs a laugh, but it's anything but amused. 

“Manors been better. Been worse too.“

It was something. An allowance. 

… 

After that they talk when they meet in the common room. They talk about everything, and nothing. Harry telling Malfoy about muggle childhood, and Draco talking about wizarding history. When those subjects get too much they talk about quidditch. They talk until one of them drifts off to sleep. 

They sit on the same couch now. And sometimes when they wake it's in one another's embrace. Harry notices he sleeps better on those nights, but he doesn't mention it to Malfoy. 

And some nights they talk about real things. Like the night it all starts to change. 

“Sometimes I think I must be broken now. I feel numb almost all the time. Maybe living with voldemort in your head is enough to break a person.“

“Maybe,“ Malfoy says, and even though it's an agreement to that fact, it feels judgement free. “I'm not sure if we can recover from everything. I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself for what I did. And I'm not sure I deserve it either.“

Harry is emotion drunk, and  _ oh so tired _ , but he pulls Draco's (because it  _ is _ Draco now, months of meeting in the common room and nights spent with only each other for company are enough to change that) hands into his and looks into his eyes. 

“I think you do.”

It feels natural then, to lean in and kiss Draco. 

It feels like an inevitable thing. All roads led to here, now, Harry kissing Draco on the lounge.

But then Draco pulls away. 

“Harry,“ he says sadly, “you deserve a good thing. I'm not that.“

“You are to me.“ He answers, and he leans in to kiss him again. It's not the end of it, he knows this, but he'll convince Draco.

…

Draco is a good thing and the thing between them is an even better thing. But they both agree that they want to keep their  _ good thing _ between the two of them. Draco is scared, even if he won't say as much, and Harry just wants  _ something to himself _ . 

But they're both idiots sometimes. 

Harry likes to think Draco is more of an idiot, since he starts it. 

Even though Harry technically starts it. But he’ll point the blame at Draco anyway. He’s the one who makes it a thing.

They're running late for potions, when Harry pulls them aside just before they get to the dungeon room.

He tugs Draco's hand, and pushes him against the wall, kissing him for all its worth. 

They're already breathless from running, and there's nobody on the corridors, and Harry has always been one to push the rules, so he's not overly concerned by it. 

When they pull away, Draco has a look of surprise on his face.

He licks his lips, before asking, “oh, is that how we're playing it?“

He turns and leaves, walking off for the door to the classroom. 

“Playing what?” Harry asks, but it’s too late, Draco has already left him alone, and the empty corridor isn’t giving him any answers. But he's sure he'll find out. 

The next time they're walking to the quidditch game, and Draco pulls them aside behind the bleachers and snogs him stupid.  “We're even now” he says before leaving Harry to readjust his pants, and follow Draco up the stairs. 

... 

Harry is in the library looking for a book on the possible utilisations of three-headed dog saliva when a hand comes around him from behind to press over his mouth. He can tell it's Draco, his body just  _ knows _ (and isn't that the the weirdest) and then he's turned around and the hand is replaced by lips and he's being pressed back against the shelf and he  _ doesn't care _ that the bookshelf is painful because he's being pushed into it by Draco’s body. 

Then the lips are gone and there's a smirk on his face as someone walks past their aisle. 

“Two to one, wonder boy,” Draco says, before nonchalantly picking a book off the shelf and walking away. Later when Harry can't find the book he's looking for, despite looking for over half an hour, he works out that Draco took the book. Because of course he did. 

When they head down to the great hall for dinner that night there’s a banner up. The banner has two columns with some marks in each. The general talk is that it’s something that the teachers have put up, but Harry notices the way that McGonagall glares at it and thinks it might not be true. He’s about to say something when Draco winds his foot in between his under the table, and then it’s swept from his mind.

… 

Slughorn asks Harry to gather the supplies directly from the supply cupboard for his potion. He's still convinced that Harry is something of a potions prodigy. He's only maintaining any idea of that because he now sits opposite Draco , who gives him tips and assistance in the form of insults. It's working well for Harry, although he has no idea what Draco gets out of it. 

And the thing is, he hadn't been paying attention to Slughorn, or the potion requirements. So he’s thankful when Draco interrupts with,

“Professor, my cuttlefish bone is too aged, and is not appropriate for this potion.”

“Yes alright Malfoy, replace it with another.” Slughorn waves his query off, and Draco slides gracefully off the stool, slipping past Harry to enter the supply cupboard in front of him.

The cupboard is small, and there are supplies behind the door, so it’s not suspicious when Harry closes the door behind them.

It’s less than innocent when Draco pushes him up against the back of the door. Harry has a moment to think that  _ of course Draco would push him up against the door rather than risk any of the ingredients, that’s so Draco _ , and then Draco is kissing him, his hands sliding underneath his robes to rest at his hips. They don’t really have the time to spare, people will get suspicious if they’re in the cupboard for too long, but Draco still takes his time licking into his mouth, until Harry feels his dick starting to react under his robes. 

Draco must feel it too, because he’s pressing a leg in between Harry’s thighs, and he get’s just a hint of pressure, before Draco is pulling his lips and body away.

Harry groans at the separation.

Draco’s turning away and looking through the shelves already, as Harry is still leaning against the wall, trying to get his breathing back under control. 

And his dick.

“I’m going to set out your ingredients here, wait a while and settle down,” Draco makes a pointed glance downwards, even though his erection is entirely concealed by his robes, “before you come back into the class.”

He has the cuttlefish bone in his hands when he turns back around, and true to his words, the ingredients are laid out for Harry. 

He steps up to grab the door handle behind Harry, and leaning in, places a light kiss on his lips.

“That’s three - one Boy Who Dallied, better work harder if you want to catch up.”

And then he’s out the door, pushing Harry aside with the door in his effort to leave. Before he can dispute that this should be  _ at least _ half his point. He was the one who closed the door after all. 

...

They’re wandering on their way to the library when Draco sends him a smirk. When he looks pointedly up and down the corridor Harry gets the hint.

Draco laces his fingers between his, and uses it to pull Harry into press against his body. His other hand comes up to hold Harry's neck. Draco is just taller than him, and he tips his head up to kiss Draco, and opens his lips for Draco’s tongue to slip into his mouth. 

It's softer than they usually are in these moments, with their fingers laced together, and although they could get caught at any moment, it feels like they have all the time in the world. 

Until they hear the tell tale noise of students approaching, and they leap apart, Draco dropping his hand. Draco leans back against the corridor wall and Harry mirrors his position, an acceptable arm's distance away. 

They're the portrait of inter house unity when the group of Hufflepuff students round the corner, as if they could have just been having a friendly conversation. 

The students are still approaching when Draco says softly enough that they won't hear, “five, one, Potter, you're slipping behind.”

…

Harry finally gets another score one morning in the bathroom. 

He can hear the shower running, but Draco is standing in front of the basin. He's still wearing his pajamas, and his hair is sticking up in places, he obviously hasn't had his shower yet, and is currently brushing his teeth. 

Harry thinks this Draco, with sleepy eyes, messed up hair, and toothpaste on his face is one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen. 

He waits until Draco has spit out his toothpaste, and rinsed his mouth before he pushes his body into Draco’s. Draco looks into the mirror to meet Harry's eyes, and he has the question on his face, even if he doesn't say it out loud. Then Harry is pushing at his hip to get him to turn around and face him instead. 

He places his hands pressing into the basin either side of Draco’s, his body pressing gently into Draco’s. He presses a kiss to Draco’s chin, and then an open mouthed kiss to his lips. His mouth is wet from rinsing, and his mouth still tastes like the minty toothpaste he's just rinsed out. Draco’s lips open beneath his, and he pushes his tongue into Draco’s softly. 

Then the shower turns off, and he knows their time’s up. 

He still pulls away slowly, risking capture, placing another kiss to Draco’s lips, and to his cheek, and whispering into his ear, “four two, Master Malfoy.”

…

They're walking to breakfast later that morning, Draco looks impeccable as usual and Harry's hair looks like he just rolled out of bed like that. Which he did, but his hair would look exactly the same regardless of any effort he put in. 

His tie is in it's usual haphazard nature, and Draco casts him a look, before saying exasperated, “Harry.”

Draco pushes a shoulder so that Harry is facing him, and his fingers fly to his tie. In less time than Harry could even consider it, Draco has it untied and then retied. He looks down at his shirt and tie, and it does look better. It also feels more comfortable, less like it's choking him. 

“Thanks,“ he says smiling at Draco. 

Draco gives him a small smile before dropping a small kiss on his lips. 

“Five, two potter.”

When he attempts to walk away Harry pulls him back in, and presses their lips together again. He's content to just press them together, doesn't try to deepen the kiss, and when they pull away by choice for once, Draco is smiling, and Harry can feel the smile echoed on his own face.

“Five, three.”

It feels good. It feels like a good thing. 

… 

When they finally make it into the great hall, Draco goes to sit with Millicent and Blaise, and Harry slides down, sitting next to Ron. 

“You missed it mate.” Ron says to him, between bites of toast smothered in marmalade. “There were two more marks while you and Malfoy took your time.”

“Two?” Harry asks, surprised, and he looks up to see one extra mark in one column, but two in the other. “It looks like three extra marks.”

“Nah,” Ron says, once he's swallowed his toast, “One of the others was already there when we arrived.”

The count reads three and five Harry realises. 

Three and five. 

He looks over at Draco, sitting, talking to his friends, and eating.

Hi stomach drops. His body suddenly feels like it’s been doused in ice.

He doesn’t feel good anymore.

He’s up and racing across the room, before he second guesses himself, and he’s almost running towards Draco.

He hears Draco ask, “Harry?” But he ignores it, instead grabbing Draco’s wrist and pulling him roughly out of the Great Hall.

Harry pulls them until they reach the closest bathroom, and after checking to make sure it's empty, he locks the main door with his wand. 

This would usually be when they kiss, and the setting is so similar to the many times that they’ve pulled each other aside for their stolen kisses. But it’s not one of those times, this is so, so different. 

Draco’s eyes are flicking between his, and he looks scared, which would usually make Harry pause, make him try to take away that look of fear, but not right now. 

“Did you do it? Is this all some sort of joke?” He demands.

Draco tries to tug his wrist free but Harry holds fast. He's holding the wrist tight, too tight, and he knows it's tight enough there will be bruises left behind, but he can't bring himself to let go, not now. 

Draco looks down at his wrist before looking into his eyes, and he doesn’t try to tug his wrist free again.

“What are you talking about Harry?” Draco asks, and his voice would be calm, except for the tremor that gives it away. 

“The poster.” He spits with venom in his voice. “The stupid tally. I know it's for us.”

Draco’s eyes widen in shock, probably shock that Harry could work it all out. He might not be as smart as Draco, but he's not stupid. Not as stupid as Draco thinks he is. 

“No! I wouldn't!“ He stares into Harry's eyes, before saying again, “I wouldn't.”

They’re interrupted by a noise, a knock at the door, and Harry drops Draco’s wrist at the sound. Draco takes advantage of his release, quickly moving out of Harry’s reach. He backs away from Harry until he gets to the door, finally tearing his eyes away and unlocking the door with his wand, before leaving without sparing another look at Harry.

It feels like the reality of what has happened, of what he’s just done hits him then. Harry feels the air leave his lungs, and he sinks down to the floor. He can still see the scared look on Draco’s face in his mind. Can see the hurt that had flashed across his face from Harry’s accusation.

His heart is racing and his breaths are coming too fast. His vision is starting to blur. 

He forces himself to do the calming breathing exercises Hermione has taught him.

In through his nose -  _ one, two, three, four. _

Hold -  _ one two. _

Out through the mouth -  _ one, two, three, four. _

He waits a few seconds then repeats the process.

He continues it until his heart rate has come back down, and he feels less out of control. 

Now that he’s removed from it, and the adrenaline has left his veins, leaving only dawning horror and a residual shaking in it’s wake, he knows that Draco didn’t do what he’d accused him of. Draco was just as determined to keep their relationship. Determined to fly under the radar this year, and he had nothing to gain from trying to expose them.

It’s then he realises,  _ he’s been a fucking idiot. _

Harry barely sees Draco for the rest of the day. They don’t have potions together today, and Draco is obviously avoiding him, because he doesn’t see him between classes, in the great hall, or at the common room before bed.

When he goes to the common room again later that night, it's empty and cold. He sits in it nonetheless, waiting, hoping that Draco might turn up.

He falls asleep waiting.

He wakes up alone, with a sore neck. He’s surprised that he’s not cold, but when he looks down someone has placed a blanket on him during the night. 

When he makes it to the great hall, late as per usual, Draco is sitting in his usual seat, surrounded by his friends. He doesn’t look up when Harry enters. 

Harry steels himself, walking over to where Draco is seated.

“Can I speak to you Draco?”

“I’m not leaving Potter.” It stings that he’s back to Potter, but Harry supposes he deserves it.

“That’s fine.” It’s not really, but Harry will make it work. “Can we talk about…” his voice drifts off, but his eyes flick up to the banner, and Draco tracks the direction of his gaze.

“I didn’t do it.” Draco says, his voice cold.

“I know.” Harry says quickly and too loud, his voice almost a yell. He swallows, forcing himself to calm his voice. “I know. I, I should have never accused you of that. Of course you wouldn’t.” 

He’s still aware of the other Slytherin’s around them, not even bothering to hide the fact that they’re listening to every word. But he’s trying to focus on Draco only, and tuning them, and everyone else in the great hall out.

“I fucked up okay. I freaked. I didn’t, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Draco is still ignoring him, eyes focusing on his empty breakfast plate instead.

“I’m sorry.” He says, his voice breaking, and he means it, he means it so much.

Draco stands suddenly, and for a second Harry thinks this is it, Draco will walk away, and that will be it. But then Draco grabs his wrist, and pulls him along as he walks out of the great hall.

Draco doesn’t stop at the bathroom, like Harry half expects, and they’re halfway there by the time Harry realises that they’re headed for the 8th year dorms. 

They don’t stop in the common room either, instead Draco continues pulling him along through the common room, up the stairs and into the dormitory rooms. He finally releases Harry’s arm, and sits down on his bed.

“Sit, Harry.” Draco tells him, and Harry moves to obey, sitting down next to Draco on his bed, but leaving a careful distance between them, despite the fact that all he wants to do is touch Draco. 

Draco isn’t looking at him. His hands are clasped on his lap, and his gaze is fixed on the wall opposite where they’re sitting. There’s a poster for Hodgin’s Whiskey, and the witch in the poster keeps winking at them. Harry looks at the blank wall next to them instead.

“I don’t forgive you, just so you know.” Draco says eventually.

Harry’s heart wrenches at the words, but he understands.

“Yeah.”

“It was… it hurt. What you said. I’m allowed to be hurt about it.”

“Yeah.” Harry says again.

Draco takes a deep breath then, and the exhale sounds like a sigh.

“But also, I don’t want to be angry anymore either.”

Harry’s heart picks up, and for the first time since he realised what the banner was yesterday, he feels a little hopeful.

Draco looks at him, before saying. “You should hug me now Harry.”

He practically throws himself against Draco, and knocks Draco back against the bed in his enthusiasm. Draco gives a huff, but he doesn’t move to push him away, and his arms come up to embrace him too, one hand carding through Harry’s hair.

If there’s one thing Harry knows, it’s that Draco is a good thing in his life.

\---

The banner is still up when they return to the Great Hall, and the count continues to increase.

It stays up, until one day it disappears. It disappears the day after Harry and Draco enter the Great Hall hand in hand.

Harry laughs about it when they walk into the hall to no banner.

“Stupid magical thing.”

“Magic isn’t stupid Harry.”

“It’s stupid when it almost ruined everything.”

“Everything?” Draco asks, raising one perfect eyebrow at him “I think that’s a little dramatic, isn’t it Harry? Besides, I think you’ll find that was you Harry, not the banner.”

“Yeah. I guess it was.” he shakes his head “I’m just lucky you’re so good to me.”

Draco flushes, but he doesn’t disagree. It's enough for now.

Harry will keep working to convince Draco that he is a good thing until the day he believes it, and then every day after.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.  
> Kudos and comments give me life.  
> This is unbeta'd so sorry for any errors.
> 
> Hit me up at candybarrnerd on tumblr if you'd like!


End file.
